


Don't Blame Me

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 17:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13575888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: Song fic.  Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift.  Amelia has always had a jealous streak, struggling to contain the passion and rage that burn within her.  When the world ends and she finds herself as one of multiple wives of the man she loves, she does what is necessary to ensure that she’s his one and only.





	Don't Blame Me

**Author's Note:**

> Edited/rewritten on 27th Feb 2018 to add in more dialogue and detail.

_Don’t blame me, love made me crazy_  
_If it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right_  
_Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life_

Amelia’s knuckles were crusted with dried blood, bruises blooming along the pale skin of her fingers.  Her victim lay at her feet, her body battered and contorted, the pulse that had thrummed in her throat just moments ago, still.  The rage that had consumed Amelia so entirely had burnt out, diminishing with every impact her fists made against the flesh that she hated so desperately, the woman whose life she had stolen away.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, she told herself.  She’d arrived at her boyfriend’s apartment just in time to see him pulling in the slender blonde woman in for lingering kiss by the front door, and anger had bubbled up inside of her until she was blinded by it, as it seeped from every pore of her being.  She hadn’t interrupted, hadn’t barged in and confronted them as most scorned girls would have done.  Instead she’d lain in wait, hidden in the shadows, until the early hours of the morning when the woman had slipped out of the front door, his dress shirt hanging from her shoulders as she crept down the staircase, descending into the underground garage, where she headed for a silver Prius that she never made it to.

She’d only done it because she loved him, she’d pleaded in court, loved him so completely that she couldn’t fathom leaving him, or waiting for him to leave her.  She’d had to take matters in to her own hands, to get rid of the threat, so that he’d love only her again and they could be happy.  She’d been called insane, sentenced to spend years locked away as punishment, as her ex-lover had looked on, his face painted with hatred and disbelief.  Even then, a part of her had expected him to visit her in prison, to apologise for hurting her and for the damage his actions had caused, but, of course, he didn’t.

 _I’ve been breaking hearts a long time_  
_And toying with them older guys_  
_Just playthings for me to use_  
_Something happened for the first time_  
_In the darkest little paradise_  
_Shaking, pacing, I just need you_

When the world had ended, the inmates had been left to fend for themselves.  Amelia had been one of the last to leave, picking carefully through the prisons supplies, deciding what best to take.  Most of the guards’ weapons has been raided by the other girls, but there were a couple of knives left in the kitchen that she tucked into her waistband, and she had a shank already formed under the sink in her cell, just in case.  Armed with her blades, she’d stepped through the gates, coppery hair shining in the sunlight, shoulders thrown back, as she marched out to take her place in the new world order.  

And she’d found it.  She’d been wandering aimlessly from town to town, taking what she needed whenever she came across anywhere that hadn’t already been raided, when they discovered her.  The Saviors.  She’d been taken back to their community, a big concrete monstrosity they called the Sanctuary which reminded her a little too much of where she’d come from.  She’d wanted to run, almost had time and time again, but then she’d met the leader and everything had changed.

Negan.  A slim-hipped, murderous God in a leather jacket.

From the moment she’d seen the shit-eating grin spread across his face as he’d berated one of his men, she’d been completely under his spell, and he hadn’t even known she’d existed.  

She would lie awake into the night, picturing herself in a tangle of limbs with their leader, wrapping herself around him, losing herself in him.  As her body trembled with need, she would crawl out of bed, pacing around the tiny bedroom like a caged predator in a zoo, growling in frustration, squeezing her eyes tight shut as she imagined how it would feel to run her fingers through his slicked-back hair, to press the tip of her tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat and trace it up to the dimple at the side of his mouth.  He was everything she wanted, a real man, a man who understood what it was like to be overwhelmed with emotion, to let love or anger dominate him and control his actions, a man who wouldn’t judge her for her past.

 _For you, I would cross the line_  
_I would waste my time_  
_I would lose my mind_  
_They say, ‘She’s gone too far this time,’_

How she’d gotten from that to this, Amelia didn’t quite know.  She was sitting cross-legged in the centre of the wives’ quarters, her little black dress rucked up around her thighs, her skin painted with the scarlet-red of freshly-spilled blood, a knife clutched tightly in her white-knuckled hand.  Around her, bodies lay as though sleeping, only the sticky gore that stained them proof of their more permanent slumber.  They’d been no match for her, despite her size and their numbers.  They’d been chosen to be wives because they were weak, because they needed looking after.  Well, she’d taken care of them now, and they wouldn’t be a burden for her man, an obstacle for her complete reign over him, anymore.  

She’d sauntered in whilst they’d been going about their afternoon activities: some sipping from cocktail glasses whilst they flicked idly through magazines; a couple gossiping in the corner with their heads bent close together, their voices hushed; one sitting at a table sketching, her tongue poking out from between her rosebud lips as her brow furrowed in concentration.

Amber had looked up first, narrowing her eyes at the newest wife as she stood inside the doorway, swaying lightly on the balls of her feet, her doe eyes scanning the room as though looking for a seat.  

‘What’s the new girl doing?’ she sneered, nodding her head in your direction.  ‘I swear, Negan must be crazy to marry that one.  She’s freakin’ insane.’

‘Amber.’  Frankie’s voice had been low, warning the aggressive blonde to back off, but Amber wasn’t one to follow orders unless they came from the top.

‘I’m serious,’ she continued.  ‘Look at her!  You can tell she’s a psycho.  It’s in the eyes!’

And then Amelia had smiled menacingly, her eyes flashing with anger, and she’d drawn out a machete from behind her back, the one she’d been allowed to carry as a Savior and had stashed away under her mattress, just in case.  She wasn’t sure who screamed first, but the sound had acted like a starter pistol, and she’d launched into her attack, her movements light and fluid as she twirled around the room, slashing and slicing, the warm yellow light from the chandelier glinting off the metallic blade.  

 _Don’t blame me, love made me crazy_  
_If it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right_  
_Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life_

Within a matter of weeks of arriving at the Sanctuary, Amelia’s tendency towards violence had gotten her promoted to the rank of Savior.  She no longer had to work for her points, and was part of a small group led by Simon that had been charged with bringing a community called the Hilltop under Negan’s control.  On one of their first outings to meet with the new group, one of the leader’s men has protested the rules that Simon was laying down, stepping up to confront him, mouthing off with the confidence of a big man with nothing to fear.  Amelia’s fist connecting with his nose, bone cracking under the contact, had led to a swift change in his attitude, and caused Simon to look at her with a new-found respect.  

She began to climb the ladder, soon being appointed as Simon’s second-in-command, and that was when Negan had taken notice.  As she recognised that, in this new world, her rage earned her the attention of the one she desired, she let it take over her, losing herself in her insanity, and as she became more feared by those beneath her, more respected by her peers, she revelled in the small comments that Negan whispered in her ear as he passed her in the hallways, the nods of recognition when in a group.  She was completely taken over by her need to please him.

 _My name is whatever you decide_  
_And I’m just gonna call you mine_  
_I’m insane, but I’m your baby_  
_Echoes of your name inside my mind_  
_Halo, hiding my obsession_  
_I once was poison ivy but now I’m your daisy_

'What’s your name, doll?’ Negan had growled from behind her.  He had summoned Amelia into his quarters at short notice and, of course, she had dropped everything for him, not just because he was the boss, but because every second in his presence drove her crazy with desire.

'Amelia,’ she whispered, feeling him move closer, the warmth radiating from him penetrating her thin t-shirt.  

She gasped as strong fingers laced into her hair, yanking her head back against a leather-clad shoulder.  'Wrong.  What’s your name?’

'Negan,’ she rasped, trying to turn to look at him, but finding herself held rigidly in place.  'I’m Negan.’

He chuckled, deep at the back of his throat, releasing his grip as he motioned for her to take a seat on his couch.  'That’s right, baby, you are Negan.  You do what I say when I say it and I am hearing all sorts of good fucking things about you.’

When she didn’t respond he took a seat beside her, placing a gentle hand on her knee.  'But here’s the thing, doll, you’re causing me a fucking dilemma right now.  You see, Simon reckons you’re gonna be good enough to lead your own squad one day, thinks you’ve got some serious fucking potential, and I agree.  I’ve seen the fucking damage you do to anyone that questions me and, doll, you are seriously fucking crazy!  I like that.’

'I do it for you,’ Amelia admitted, gazing up at him from beneath her lashes, licking her lips as she took in his close proximity.  'I’d do anything for you.’

He growled, throwing his head back and running a hand across his salt and pepper stubble.  'But see, that’s the thing.  You’re sexy as shit when you look at me like that, and what I fucking want more than anything is for you to be my wife so I can fucking have you whenever the mood takes me.  So you see,’ he said, raising an eyebrow at her as he leant back, bringing his hands up behind his head and stretching out his long legs in front of him.  'That’s the fucking problem I’ve got right now.’

'Do I get a say in the matter?’

'Oh baby, please, tell me what you fucking think.’

In a flash, Amelia had swung herself around to straddle him, locking her lips onto his as his hands moved to grip her hips.

'Well,’ he murmured against her lips as she broke away, panting heavily.  'I guess that fucking decides it.’

 _And baby, for you, I would fall from grace_  
_Just to touch your face_  
_If you walk away_  
_I’d beg you on my knees to stay_

That first night.  Their engagement.  It seemed so long ago now, as she was hauled into Negan’s office by Dwight, his fingers tight around her arm as he forced her to stand at attention in front of their leader.  Negan’s face was serious as he moved round his desk to stand in front of her, his eyes roaming over her, taking in her dishevelled state, the blood that coated her skin, the gore-covered machete in Dwight’s hand.

'Well, aren’t you just a pretty fucking mess?’

She let out a maniacal laugh, reaching for him, desperate to feel his lips on hers, but he slapped her hands away and the next thing she felt was his knuckles colliding with her cheekbone as he backhanded her.  The impact knocked her to the floor, and she stared up at him with confusion in her eyes.  

'Negan,’ she heard Dwight’s voice warn the man pacing in front of her, glancing down at her with fury in his eyes.

'Look, I don’t fucking hit women, you know that!’  His voice was pure venom.  'But you killed my people, and they were fucking precious to me.  What the fuck were you thinking?’

'That I love you, and I didn’t want to share.’

'And you didn’t think fucking talking to me about that shit might have been a better fucking option than playing slice and dice with my fucking wives?!’  His hands were under her arms, hauling her to her feet so he could get in her face, his breath hot against her skin.  'Who the fuck do you think you are?!’

'I’m your wife,’ she simpered, leaning into him, clasping her hands behind his neck as she gazed into his face, red with rage. 'And I’m completely Negan.  I can be enough for you.  You didn’t need them.’

'That’s not your fucking decision!’

He turned away from her, gesturing for Dwight to follow him, as they moved into the corner of the room, speaking in low voices.  She caught snippets of the conversation, as they turned their backs to her.

'You’re sure?  All of them?  They’re all dead.’

'I’m sure, boss.  It ain’t pretty in there.’

Finally, Negan turned back towards her, moving forward to take her hand as Dwight left the two of them alone.

'Alright, doll, you’re gonna come with me, okay?’

She nodded, her fingers lacing through his as he led her from his quarters.  This is it, he’s going to tell everyone.  I’m going to be his one and only, his everything.  But they passed the dining hall, the market place, all of the communal areas where such an announcement might be made, and kept descending the metal stairs until they reached the lowest level.

'No!’  She realised her destination before they reached it, fighting to tear her hand from Negan’s, feeling her knuckles crack as he resisted her attempts to wrench herself from his grasp.  'No, Negan, you can’t do this to me!’

'I don’t have a fucking choice,’ he muttered, continuing to drag her along behind him as he moved towards the cells.  'You’ve made my decision for me, doll.’

'But I didn’t want this!’

'And Amber didn’t want to fucking die!  And neither did fucking Sherry or Frankie or Tanya.  But you fucking killed them anyway!  This is your fault!  You’re making me do this!’

'But, baby-’

'No!  Shut your fucking mouth!’  He had her backed against the wall now, holding her there with his chest, his hips, as his hands slammed down either side of her head.  'You couldn’t just follow the fucking rules, could you?!  You’re fucking insane!’

'But I only did it because I love you.’

He sighed at her words, hanging his head so she could feel his breath ghost against her neck.

'It doesn’t fucking matter.’  He pulled away from her, yanking open the door of the cell beside them, and nodding inside.  'Get the fuck in there.’

'I’m sorry.’  Tears were streaming down her face now as she moved to stand in the doorway.  In one last desperate attempt, she stepped into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips then deepening it before he could react, lacing her fingers into his hair and holding his mouth to hers.  She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips as she felt his hands go to the hem of her dress and begin to ease it upwards, rolling it over her hips and chest before easing it over her head.  As she reached for him again, he stepped away, balling the fabric up in his fists.

'You never fucking deserved this,’ he growled, tossing the fabric to the side.  'Now, get inside.’

She stepped backwards into the darkness, falling to her knees as he stood before her, looming over her tiny frame as she broke down.

'Please, Negan, please don’t leave me.  I love you.  I only did it because I love you.’

The door slammed shut, but not before she had seen the naked hatred in his eyes.  

 _Don’t blame me, love made me crazy_  
_If it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right_  
_Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life_

Locked away in her cell, Amelia curled herself up in the corner, shivering at the contact between her bare skin and the cool concrete, rocking back and forth as the darkness, the isolation overwhelmed her.

Occasionally, somebody would ease open the door a crack, slipping in a mug of water and a slice of stale bread, just enough sustenance to keep her alive, but they would never engage in conversation, no matter how much she pleaded for news of Negan.  Did he miss her, she wondered, as she missed him?  Did he crave her touch the way she craved the feel of him above her?  Surely he would come for her.  Any day now, he would realise his mistake and he would come for her.

 _I get so high, oh_  
_Every time you’re, every time you’re loving me_  
_Trip of my life, oh_  
_Every time you’re, every time you’re touching me_  
_I get so high, oh_  
_Every time you’re, every time you’re loving me_  
_Trip of my life, oh_  
_Every time you’re, every time you’re touching me_  
_Oh, Lord, save me_  
_My drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life_

Locked away, with nothing to occupy her mind, Amelia lost herself in her memories, replaying her first night with Negan over and over again.  She found it calmed her, like a drug, distracting her from the reality of her hopeless situation.  She warmed herself with the feeling of his body pressed to hers, his strong arms wrapped around her.  She drove herself mad with the taste of him on her lips, the scratch of his stubble against the soft skin of her stomach, the sound of his deep voice purring in her ear as his hands mapped her body.  She closed her eyes and she was there again, slipping against his satin sheets as he moved above her, tangling her fingers in his chest hair, moaning as he took her to a new plane of pleasure.  It had been pure and amazing and life-changing, and she hadn’t wanted to share it, hadn’t wanted any other woman to have any part of him when she had given herself to him so completely.

As she’d waited for her ex-boyfriend to visit her in prison, she now waited in her cell for Negan to realise his mistake, to take pity on her and release her so that they could be together but, as her boyfriend had never come, neither did Negan.  Once again her life had become confined to the 4 walls around her, and she felt herself sliding further and further into insanity, found herself welcoming the sensation and the break it gave her from reality.  Her only crime, she thought, was that she’d fallen too passionately in love for anybody else to comprehend, and in some ways she pitied them for that.  They would never know what it was like to love somebody so entirely that you would kill to be with them.  They would never understand.

 _Don’t blame me, love made me crazy_  
_If it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right_  
_Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life, oh_  
_Don’t blame me, love made me crazy_  
_If it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right_  
_Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
_I’ll be using for the rest of my life_


End file.
